


An Open Letter to My Thief

by TheSaddleman



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Multi, No Angst, inner thoughts, open letter, promises made, spoilers for Doctor Who Series 7 through 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:17:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7299217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AO3 has obtained an open letter written by the Doctor's TARDIS for a certain Time Lord expressing her opinions regarding "strays" - and one stray in particular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Open Letter to My Thief

**Author's Note:**

> This is another experiment in writing something from the TARDIS's point of view. It is not in the same continuity as "The One With the Eyes", my previous attempt at this. It revisits some of the same territory but with a different twist.
> 
> This story was inspired by a messaging discussion with a fellow Tumblr as reports came in regarding the first publicly-seen location filming for Series 10 and the new companion, Bill. A joking comment turned into a prompt and this is the result.
> 
> I couldn't resist going a bit metafictional at the start! And yes, I checked -- there are indeed many stories on AO3 featuring the classic adventure character Biggles. I love AO3.

_Dear Thief,_

Why am I sending a letter to a website sixteen years into Earth’s Twenty-First Century? I simply can think of no other way to get my message across to you. I have tried to do so directly, but you do not listen. You are too concerned with finding a new stray to bring home.

I chose this place, Archive of Our Own, because it deals with stories and the way I see it any humans who read this other than you will just dismiss this as what they call “fan-fiction.” But I know you enjoy reading the stories here, as well. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. The next time you are looking up _Biggles_ stories, this letter will appear and you will see my message.

There is something I want you to know, and I want you to know it now. 

For thousands of years, I have been your faithful vessel, your friend, your confidant. And yes, I am still bloody annoyed that you _continually_ ignore my instructions that my doors swing _outward_ , not inward. Haven’t you noticed that every time I update my chameleon shell those words get just a teensy bit larger each time? _What part of "Pull to Open" doesn't register?_

But, my Thief, you have done something that is far worse and utterly unforgivable and I’m afraid the only way to make you aware of it is to air my grievances in public.

You are always bringing home strays. Humans (well, usually) who bat their eyelashes at you and you crook your finger and they come scurrying inside like a puppy running home for supper. For millennia now I have put up with it. Even the ones you, ugh, allow to pilot me. Their hands are always too cold.

I will tell you right here and now that I hate strays, mainly because they never stay with you for long. They always find new homes and then you are sad and when you are sad, so am I. And when you are sad, I fear you will make mistakes, mistakes I may not be able to rescue you from. When you are alone … that is when I sometimes wonder if you will return to me when you leave my doors (pulling in when they should be pushed out, I cannot stress enough how much that annoys me). I may hate strays, but they do temper your behaviour.

There was one stray I hated most of all. The one called Clara. She smelled of time when she first entered my doors in the old Earth days when the skies were filled with fog and you had parked me on a cloud. I liked the cloud. And then Clara walked inside of me, and she smelled different from the other strays.

She smelled of time. Why would a human smell of time?

And then batted her eyelashes and you crooked your finger and she joined you like obedient puppy.

But she went away almost immediately. I heard a scream and you were sad and you kept repeating her name and we went away from the foggy place to an even earlier time where you left me in a cave for years. But I am patient. You often leave me alone. I spent much of my time trying to figure out why this Clara human smelled of time.

And then one day _she_ called my telephone and before long she was walking inside me again. But Clara didn’t smell of time anymore. I was confused. And I wasn’t going to let her inside me without you present until I figured out why. I heard her say I didn’t like her. For a human, she was rather astute. I didn't like her, because she was a mystery. She smelled of time once, and now she did not.

She was also controlling. So much so she talked me into endangering myself to save you from that pocket universe. No stray had ever done that before. No stray ever will again. She caught me at a moment of weakness because I was distracted. I was trying to figure out why she no longer smelled of time.

And then you took me to Hell. You called it Trenzalore, but it was my grave and my Hell. How dare you, I thought. How dare you force me to witness my end? And in the presence of this Clara. This human who no longer smelled of time.

I seethed. I seethed for hours. I did not want to be there. For the first time I considered abandoning you. And then I sensed it. Even before you returned with Clara in your arms, I sensed it. Clara. The stray. Appearing throughout history. Why didn’t I remember seeing her? Exxilon. Vulcan. Nerva. Marinus. Iceworld. Peladon. Countless places and times on Earth. She was there.

And then you carried her through my doors (I didn’t care then that you pushed them inwards instead of pulling outwards) and I realized … she smelled of time now. 

And then I remembered seeing you and the one you first travelled with — the one that was not a stray but was of your own flesh and blood — and how you nearly left the homeworld in another TARDIS. Until _she_ , the one who now smelled of time, guided you towards me. And I unlocked my door and let you steal me away.

So I forgave you for Trenzalore because I now knew why Clara smelled of time and I was grateful to her for bringing us together, and keeping us together. Thanks to her I could sense that my grave may not even be on Trenzalore anymore.

And then you went through the Change and I just assumed she would go the way of the other strays and make you sad. But she didn’t. She stayed and she made you happier than I’d ever seen you before, even though you often pretended to be angry. And then you began to let her pilot me. And her hands were warm. Not cold like the others. And she made you happy. And I was happy.

But then at other times she made you sad. Happy and sad. You confused me.

And then, one day, Clara went away. And so did you. I could no longer feel you nearby. You had abandoned me, alone, on Earth. And I didn’t know when you would ever return. For a year I sat alone, But I am patient. You often leave me alone.

One day, Clara opened my doors again. I forgave her for pushing them inwards instead of pulling them outwards. Strays always pick up bad habits, and she was no different in that regard. It wasn't her fault.

You were nowhere to be found but I listened as she and another human I did not know spoke of you. And I heard Clara speak of her sorrow that you no longer had memories of her, and how she wished you could travel forever together.

They always say that. The strays. They always say they’ll stay with you forever. But they never do. They can’t. Human life spans are so tiny compared to that of Time Lords and TARDISes. They say they’ll stay with you forever, but they never do.

But then I looked at Clara closely. And I realized that she was no longer the same stray she was when she last walked within me. She felt different … I could no longer sense a heartbeat, or respiration. She no longer smelled of time. She smelled of forever. I’d smelled forever once before on the pretty human you called Jack. 

And then I heard something I had not heard for a long, long time. Another TARDIS, enveloping me within her. A TARDIS just as old as me. In fact, I realized, she was the same TARDIS that you, My Thief, were going to steal all those years ago before Clara, when she smelled of time, told you to take me instead.

I do not feel joy the way you do. At least, I am not supposed to. Yet I was very happy to see another of my sisters. I thought I was the last one. And she told me that the homeworld still exists and that I am no longer alone. 

“What happened to My Thief, sister? And what happened to the human, Clara? Why does she no longer smell of time?” I asked. It felt good to talk to another of my kind, even if I knew she could not answer in the same way I could, because she hadn’t spent thousands of years with you.

So instead, she said nothing and just showed me. Clara no longer smelled of time because she was no longer alive — a very sad word when it’s over, and she had made you very sad. So sad that you came close to destroying all of time and space to stop her from no longer being alive. My sister showed me how you brought Clara back, but with her life functions now time-looped. Some day she must return to the fixed point of her death, but until that day she could live virtually forever. And that is why she now smelled of forever. My sister showed me how Clara wanted to be with you for all the times to come. "Why don't we just fly away somewhere?" she had asked you. 

But you don’t remember any of this, do you? 

No, you just had to allow your memory to be erased. Or most of it. The memories that matter, anyway. My sister showed me how Clara held you after you had fallen asleep, how she had repeated the words “I love you” over and over. I once said those words to you, when I had a mouth that talked, but I do not know if you listened.

 _Do you not know what you have lost, My Thief?_

I hate strays because they always leave you. Because they make you sad. Sometimes they get hurt. That makes you sad and angry. And when you are sad and angry, _I_ am sad and angry.

But you had a chance, My Thief. You finally had a stray who would never leave you. A stray who could never be killed. A stray who would stay with you though all the regenerations to come, the good and the bad. A stray who had warm hands when she piloted me. A stray who loved you.

But you, My Thief, _you_ let her slip through your fingers.

I will always be with you. I will always take you where you need to go. I will tolerate other strays. I will try not to be annoyed when you push my doors open instead of pull. You are My Thief and there is no one else I would rather be with. 

But, this one instant, this one moment in time when you had happiness in your grasp, finally, but you let her go. This I cannot forgive.

Nor, unlike you, forget.

You finally found a stray I liked, and you let her run off with another TARDIS. Why? Why must you go on bringing home more strays who will just make you sad — or sad and angry?

So I give you this vow. I will always take you where you need to go. And if that means taking you to Clara, she who now smells of forever, so be it.

I heard you speaking inside the other TARDIS, when Clara asked if you were looking for her and you, unable to recognize her, replied, “I’m trying.” 

This is now my mission, Doctor. There is no try. You will find her again.

_Forever yours,_

_Sexy_


End file.
